You Can Run but You Can't Hide
by Anne Phoenix
Summary: Following the events of Never Say Never, Alex tries his best to forget his terrible ordeal. But when he finds a letter written by his uncle, he can't help but investigate. Before long, Alex finds himself on the run with nowhere left to turn.
1. Chapter 1

Title: You Can Run but You Can't Hide  
Author: Anne Phoenix  
Rating: R

Summary: Following the events of Never Say Never, Alex tries his best to forget his terrible ordeal and stay out of trouble. But when he finds a letter written by his uncle, he can't help but investigate. Before long, Alex finds himself on the run with nowhere left to turn. Part two in the Blood & Fire arc.

Warnings: Violence, m/m (blink and you'll miss it)

Disclaimer: Alex Rider fanfictions are based on characters and situations created and owned by Anthony Horowitz, various publishers including but not limited to Walker Books, Puffin Books, Entertainment Film Distributors (UK), and MGM/The Weinstein Company (USA). No money is being made, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. All non-original characters and locations are used in a non-commercial, transformative manner and fall squarely within the Fair Use exception to the exclusive rights of the copyright owner.

Author's notes: Many thanks to hpstrangelove for beta reading!

Right, this is how it's going to be. Nine chapters posted over 14 days – I post, you review … and Alex runs for his life.

-

**YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CAN'T HIDE**

**Chapter 1**

MI6 wouldn't let Alex leave the hospital for over a week after they'd picked him up from the Brecon Beacons. After being thrown from the Scorpia helicopter, he'd managed to control his parachute, enabling him to land well enough. But then the strain of the impact had been too much for his injured knee, and it had given way with a terrible popping sound.

A week in hospital with doctors, nurses and an MI6 psychologist prodding and poking at his body and soul, and Alex had been just about ready to bury himself in a deep hole and never resurface. Then at last, he'd been allowed to go home.

Sadly, it turned out that home wasn't much better.

It was now four weeks after Alex's injury, and Jack still wouldn't let him leave the sofa. She continued tending to his every need with a suffocating enthusiasm that was absolutely stifling.

Alex felt trapped inside his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the sheer metal walls of the Scorpia cell closing in on him, tighter and tighter until the air was crushed from his lungs. The Australian's words drummed through his dreams and his nightmares. _Ian … working for Scorpia. _

Alex knew, rationally, that it was not possible …

… just as he knew, rationally, that Yassen Gregorovich could not be alive.

So why then had Scorpia invested so much time and planning into kidnapping him and setting him up for this fact finding mission?

He hadn't told MI6 anything of what the Australian had said. Nor had he mentioned the Scorpia device implanted in his belly. The wound from the injection site was negligible, but Alex imagined he could feel the thing inside of him, sending out its signal to Scorpia, harbouring its deadly nanotoxins …

_"Do you want another sandwich?" _

Alex snapped out of his reverie and tried to smile at Jack. "I'm fine. I feel like a beached whale lying here like this. I swear my leg is better now. Why can't I go out for a bit?"

He knew he sounded like a petulant child, but the urge for movement was almost more than he could bear.

"Give it until the weekend, Alex," Jack answered sympathetically. "You know what ligaments are like. Give yourself the right time and you'll be good as new."

"I'm weight bearing without any pain. Doesn't that mean it's healed?" Alex sulked.

"No argument, Alex!"

Jack collected his tea mug from the low glass table and disappeared back into the kitchen. Alex sighed. Jack looked after him well. _Too well._ He didn't deserve it.

Scowling slightly, Alex swung round to get to his feet. "I'm just going to the loo!" he called out defensively before Jack even noticed that he'd stood up.

He climbed the stairs carefully. A few days ago he'd become overconfident; encouraged by the lack of pain in his knee, he'd put his foot down at a funny angle. The resulting pain had made him dizzy for a split second. Thankfully, the pain had passed as quickly as it had struck, but Alex had learnt his lesson. Now he put each foot ahead of the other as squarely as possible.

It would be his birthday in a few days. He could hardly believe it had come round already – the past twelve months had been both the longest and the shortest of his whole life. He was not the same person as the carefree boy that had celebrated his fourteenth birthday with Ian and Jack one year ago.

And the changes were not for the better.

Alex hardly recognised himself. It had been bad since the Snakehead mission already – Christmas with Sabina had been awkward – but after this last encounter with Scorpia, he often felt like he was outside his body, watching himself go about life. The shadows under his eyes wouldn't fade and he also looked gaunter than before. He was finding it hard to smile.

Every time he closed his eyes, he was trapped in the cell again, pinned to the spot by the striking blue eyes of the Australian. And then the images of Eagle's beaten corpse would assault his mind, following by unstoppable nightmares of the resounding shot that had killed Spider.

Alan Blunt had once, right after they rescued Alex, casually pointed out that Alex couldn't be blamed for the deaths of Eagle and Spider, but after that no one from MI6 had ever mentioned them again. _Collateral damage_.

And then there was Ian … Ian … and John … and Yassen. What the hell had gone on between those three men? Had they all known each other? Worked together?

Alex shook his head. _Stop thinking about it,_ he ordered himself. He did his business quickly, avoiding the sight of his own reflection in the bathroom mirror. Then he made his way downstairs and settled back down on the sofa.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Jack wanted to know.

Alex wished for a moment that he could tell her about the gnawing fear of being stuck in that Scorpia cell, the terror of fighting with the Australian, knowing with certitude that he was going to die …

"Nothing much," he said instead. "I was just thinking that my knee is doing really well. I reckon I can go out for my birthday … Just to the park or something," he hastily added when he saw Jack's concerned expression.

She nodded indulgently. "Sure, we'll go to the park. And then we should also consider getting you back to school. Don't look at me like that, Alex! You can't avoid school for the rest of your life. You're only fourteen!"

"Nearly fifteen."

"Too young to be missing out on valuable education."

Alex pretended to smile at her words, but deep down he already knew he wouldn't be going back to school.

Luckily, the next few days passed quickly, and soon it was the morning of Alex's birthday. He came down the stairs to find Jack in the kitchen. The wonderful smell of chocolate cake wafted from the oven. Jack looked at him with an almost accusatory expression. "You're too early! You should sleep in for your birthday!"

"When do I ever sleep in?" Alex muttered, peeking through the dark tempered glass of the oven door and feeling a glint of satisfaction at the circular mould within.

"Well then you should sleep more overall," Jack said sternly. She handed Alex a mug of weak coffee – milky, sugary, just how he liked it. "You still feel like going to the park today?"

Alex grinned, giving the oven a pointed stare. "Absolutely! I imagine after all that chocolate cake I'll be needing a digestive walk!"

He ducked the oven glove that Jack threw at him and sat down to savour his coffee. He felt surprisingly light, almost happy. He was really looking forward to getting out of the house and stretching his legs a bit.

He was determined that nothing would ruin his birthday, and both he and Jack concentrated on making it a good day. His knee gave him no trouble in the park, and Alex could almost pretend he was a normal boy. He even managed to pretend he hadn't seen the MI6 operative lurking in the shadows of the park, watching his every move.

"Why can't they leave me alone?" he asked Jack, aware that he was sounding petulant. But Jack just shrugged and laughed it off. "We shouldn't complain that they're looking out for you, for once! Maybe they're here to stop those scorpion guys from snatching you again?"

Alex smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about Scorpia. They're finished with me," he lied smoothly.

He hated that MI6 was watching him … and he hated that Scorpia knew where he was at all times. It was like they had collectively stolen the only thing he still possessed – his stealth.

Nevertheless, Alex managed to let go of his fears for the rest of the day and allowed Jack to spoil him rotten with ice creams and chocolates. He felt thoroughly stuffed by the time they returned to the house, but happier than he had in weeks.

"And tomorrow," Jack was saying sternly, "You're going back to schoo—"

She stopped still, taking in the open door of the house.

Alex felt his heart lurch into his throat. "Stay here," he whispered. He was about to enter the house, when Jack caught his arm. "Wait. What if there's someone inside?"

Alex shook her off. "Just stay here. _Please_," he insisted. His senses had tuned out the background noise from the Embankment, and he could almost hear the thudding beat of his own heart. Pulse racing, he crept into the house.

Once inside, Alex instinctively felt that he was alone, but he still checked every room to make sure before turning on the hallway light and calling in Jack.

Together they double checked for missing items, but everything seemed to be in the right place. Nothing had been touched or moved; nothing left behind. Still, Alex felt very uneasy at the thought that someone had been sneaking around his house while he was out. What had the intruder been looking for?

The more he tried to make sense of it_– of it all –_ the more weary he felt, and it wasn't long before he excused himself and went to his room. He picked up the new Simon Kernick book that Jack had bought him. He used to enjoy reading thrillers, but lately they made him feel sick inside. He'd started this particular book earlier on, before going to the park.

It was about a met officer, who also happened to be a hitman* … It was well written, exciting; but Alex couldn't get into the story. The moral ambiguity and corruption of the police officer felt too real, and it made Alex feel very uneasy.

He had just put down the book for the night, when he heard the distinct creak of a loose floorboard in the hallway. Alex froze – Jack never came up here, as only Alex's bedroom and Ian's old office were this far along the landing. _The intruder must have come back!_ He watched as a shadow appeared in the light cast by the gap under his door and readied himself for a confrontation.

But then the intruder moved on silently and made his way toward Ian's old office.

Not wasting a moment, Alex slid out of bed and crept to the door. He steadied his breathing and listened carefully. A faint click echoed down the landing as the door to Ian's office was unlocked, and then the shadow disappeared.

Taking care not to tread on the creaky floorboard, Alex entered the landing. The door to Ian's study was faintly ajar and Alex tip-toed up to it. He had not been inside this room for almost a year, not since the day MI6 had come and removed all of Ian's documents and files. They had added a deadbolt to the door then and secured the lock.

Alex peered into the room now, unsure of what he was expecting, but was shocked to the core by what he saw.

The intruder was standing in the semi-darkness with his back to the door, and although his body shielded whatever it was he was holding, Alex could see that the painting behind Ian's desk had been removed to reveal a wall safe … which now stood wide open.

--

Chapter End Notes:

**TO BE CONTINUED … **

_*The book in question is "The Business of Dying" by Simon Kernick, a thoroughly enjoyable read if you like stories of ambiguous morality and excessive violence!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"What are you doing?" Alex demanded, flicking on the main light.

Jack Starbright cried out in shock and her expression, when she turned around, was one of guilt.

"Alex. I didn't realise you were awake," she stuttered, throwing the paper in her hand back into the safe. Acting on instinct, Alex threw himself across the room and yanked at the safe door before it could be fully closed. He held onto it grimly, refusing to let Jack move it even an inch.

"What are you doing?" he repeated, and this time his words were laced with anger. "How did you get in here? What's this?"

Before she could stop him, Alex snatched the paper back out of the safe. He didn't look down at it; all of his focus was on Jack – his guardian, his friend … "Please, Jack."

_Tell me you're not betraying me, please._

Jack sighed heavily and steadied herself on the back of Ian's desk chair.

"They left me with a key … but I've never come in here. Not for a long, long time. Ian said …" she trailed off and seemed to look through Alex for a moment before continuing. "Ian left a letter to give to you when you turned sixteen in case anything happened to him. But with all that's gone on in the last few months, and then with someone coming into the house while we were out, I … I wanted to know what was in the letter, and if any of it might be important right now."

Alex wasn't sure if he believed her or not. He desperately wanted to, but why now, why today? He looked down at the paper he had grabbed from the safe. It was an envelope simply addressed to _Alex_.

"And?" he wanted to know. "What does it say?"

Jack seemed to retreat from his hard tone. "I don't know, Alex," she muttered defensively. "I've only just opened it myself. Maybe you should put it back?"

Alex felt his grip on the letter involuntarily tighten. "Not bloody likely. Why did you come in here today of all days? Why not while I was at the hospital?"

"The open door. I was worried that someone had broken into this room. I needed to check that Ian's papers hadn't been touched. I don't know why. Just a gut feeling. I thought you were asleep. I'm really sorry, Alex."

As strange as it sounded, Alex knew it was the truth. He wondered whether maybe a part of Jack had wanted Alex to catch her and find the letter. He softened a little and nodded his understanding and acceptance of her apology. Then he turned back round to look inside the safe and, ignoring Jack's protestations, he pulled out the remainder of its contents.

Without another word, Alex returned to his room, taking care to lock his door behind him. He loved Jack, but he still felt angry with her. That she had had access to Ian's room, and worse, that she had known of the letter without ever saying anything about it, hurt him deeply.

He threw the rest of the documents onto the bed and sat down to read the letter.

_**Alex,**_

If you are reading this, then I am no longer of this world. I am writing this on the eve of my departure to what may well be my most dangerous job. By now, you will know that I work for the secret service. This is a job I hold with pride and I need you to understand that things are not always what they seem. I am mingling with evil people, terrorists, and I fear that my cover may soon be blown.

You will always be provided for. I have tried to prepare you for the real world, so you may be ready for anything it might throw at you. You are the son I never had, Alex, and I love you more than anything else in this world. I can only count my blessings that you were given to me from such a young age. Do not follow in your father's footsteps and do not let your father's associates ever convince you that I was one of them. I have always been, and will always be, true to my country and to my beliefs.

…

The letter continued for almost a page, detailing bank accounts and investments that Ian had set up for Alex. It was only when Alex looked at the scrawled name at the bottom of the letter that he realised tears were falling from his eyes. The implications of the letter weighed heavily on his mind … and the loss of Ian burnt through him more bitterly than ever.

He read the first part again, making sense of his uncle's words.

_**… things are not always what they seem.**_

Do not follow in your father's footsteps and do not let your father's associates ever convince you that I was one of them. I have always been, and will always be, true to my country and to my beliefs. _  
_

Here, again, was the insinuation that John Rider had not really been on MI6's side. The Australian had believed John's allegiance to Scorpia without question. Yassen had certainly been confident about this fact in the plane, too … and now Ian, John's own brother, was also confirming the harsh reality that Alex's dad had genuinely worked for Scorpia.

_So why the fuck had MI6 lied to him about the whole thing? _

Swiping the back of his hand over his moist eyes, Alex carefully folded the letter and tucked it into a plastic pouch, before turning his attention to the rest of the documents.

There wasn't much. Several letters addressed to names or codenames that Alex did not recognise: 'Christian Hale', 'Arshad Amehdi', 'Kazak' and 'Lexus'. He hesitated for a moment, before putting them aside. He would open them later, just to check that there was nothing in them that concerned him. Next were some photographs. Alex flicked through them quickly – they all pictured Ian and Alex, rock climbing, surfing, cycling …

Alex felt his eyes well up again, and was about to slide the photos into the pouch with the letter, when one stuck in the middle caught his eye. Alex was not pictured in this one. Instead, Ian Rider had his arm around another person.

Alex recognised him at once.

How could he not? He had seen those striking blue eyes in every nightmare he'd had for the last four weeks. Ian Rider had his arm around the Australian. Both were smiling jovially as though sharing a joke.

Alex felt the breath catch in his throat as a wave of dizziness threatened to overcome him. With numb hands, he turned the photograph around. It was dated 1998 – four years ago. A simple inscription had been scribbled: _**Cheap! Y.G.**_

Alex didn't move for what felt like an eternity – he let the emotions wash over him. Grief, shock, anger, fear … He could see the Australian's calm gaze as he ordered Spider's execution, could feel the Australian's touch on his belly, mocking him before he plunged in the needle to implant the tracking device.

A shudder rippled through Alex as he stared down at the man who had beaten him so easily and so utterly. With a cry of fury, he ripped the photo in two, separating Ian from the Australian and tearing the inscription in half. He carefully put Ian's half into the plastic pouch with the letter, but folded the remaining half – the photo of the Australian – and slipped it into the pocket of his denim jacket, which was hanging from its hook on the door.

He remembered his uncle's words: _**"do not let your father's associates ever convince you that I was one of them."**_

It took all his strength to believe those words, but he recited them inwardly as he slipped out of his pyjamas and got dressed. When he put on his denim jacket, he double-checked that the photo was still there, safe in the inside pocket. Then Alex left the house, making as little noise as possible so as not to alert Jack to his departure.

It was now close to midnight, and being Sunday, the Chelsea streets were all but empty. He encountered a few late night dog walkers, but none gave him a second glance. It was quite a long cycle to Liverpool Street Station, but Alex knew of no other way into the Royal and General bank in the middle of the night. The station closed at one o' clock, so he pedalled as fast as he could without putting undue pressure on his knee, even though it fortunately did not feel strained by the sudden exercise.

He cycled right through the station entrance and across the concourse, ignoring the surprised shouts of the single late night security man. He stopped pedalling only when he reached the photo booth that would take him into the MI6 headquarters.

If the security man was surprised to find his bike abandoned by an old photo booth, then Alex would never know, for he was already long gone.

--

**TO BE CONTINUED …**


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Chapter Notes:

Thanks for all the reviews! I promise all will fall into place eventually! I also promise that Wolf and Snake are not far away :-) …

-

**Chapter 3**

The Royal and General building was surprisingly busy for the time of night.

Alex strode with confidence, knowing that people would pay less attention to him if it looked like he knew what he was doing. Luckily, no one seemed to be surprised by his presence, and several agents even nodded a greeting at him as he walked past. The corridors of the building were too familiar to him these days, but at least it meant he wouldn't get lost. He headed straight to Alan Blunt's office – yet it wasn't the office per se that Alex was interested in; rather, he wanted to gain access to the small filing room next door. He knew it housed the files of all agents under Blunt's direct handling.

He'd expected it to be a difficult task to break into the filing room. He'd even been half prepared to repeat his window climbing stunt from his first ever visit to the building. But in fact it was ridiculously easy to slide a card into the doorframe and jump the lock. Clearly internal security wasn't something that particularly concerned Alan Blunt.

Alex made sure to lock the door behind him, before taking stock of the room.

To his left was the door that led directly into Blunt's office. All other walls were covered in metal shelves that housed row after row of manila files. There was a tiny window at the far end. Alex was grateful he hadn't needed to attempt to break in that way, as the window didn't look like it could be opened at all, let alone from the outside! Wasting no more time, Alex walked round the room until he found the 'R' section. There it didn't take him long to rifle through the folders and pull out the ones he had come for.

With his heart beating hard against his chest, he looked at the covers of the four files: 'Rider, Alex – active', 'Rider, Helen – deceased', 'Rider, Ian – deceased' and 'Rider, John – deceased '. Together the four huge files comprised an impressive amount of paper, and Alex realised with a small jolt of anxiety that he would not be able to simply walk out with them.

Although he was curious to see its exact contents, he put his own file ('Rider, Alex – active') back onto the shelf. After all, he knew the general gist of what went on in his life, even if he had very little control over it!

His mother's file was the smallest, so he opened that first.

There wasn't much and it didn't take him long to work out that she had not known about the true nature of John's work and was of no particular interest to MI6. The file included a photo Alex had never seen before. It was a passport photo, but Helen was smiling brightly at the camera. She was beautiful. Without thinking, Alex carefully peeled the photo off the page and stuck it in his pocket. He felt, by all rights, it should be his.

When he put his mother's file back onto the shelf next to his own, he felt a tug of pain at the thought of this beautiful woman who should have been the most important person in his life and yet who he had never known.

Ian and John's files were both very bulky. Although Alex had primarily come to read Ian's file, he now felt drawn to his father's. He wanted to see if there was a similar passport photo in John's file and was not disappointed. Of course Alex had many photos of his father, but once again he was struck by the family resemblance. It was like looking into a mirror … a mirror attached to a time machine. Alex shared his father's blond hair and square face … they even sported the same serious expression.

The folder contained many separate documents and there was nowhere near time to read everything, but Alex had a vague idea of what he was looking for. Sure enough, a thick folder entitled 'Albert Bridge' caught his attention.

With shaking hands, Alex pulled out the contents and started reading. He could hardly breathe as he skimmed through the words, exhaling loudly when he read: _"Target retrieved. Operation successful."_

There. Black on white. MI6 had _not_ killed John Rider on Albert Bridge.

Alex felt a rush of success, but there was also bewilderment. He shook his head, trying to work out why the Australian and Yassen and all the rest of Scorpia had been so confident of John's loyalty to them. And as he started reading the next folder, Alex finally understood. It was like a veil of confusion had been lifted from his mind and everything became clear. The folder was entitled _'Tactical Questioning'_ … and it detailed the interrogation of John Rider.

Alex found himself mesmerised as he read the reports, his eyes skipping across the pages faster and faster as he tried to take it all in.

By the end, Alex felt sick to the core. MI6 had not killed John Rider on Albert Bridge only because they'd had other plans for him. John had not yet been broken; he had not yet told them what they wanted to know about Scorpia. So MI6 had double-crossed Scorpia, tranquilised John and recaptured him …

_John Rider never did break._ According to these documents, MI6 had been preparing to transport John and his wife to Morocco for more _intensive_ questioning … somewhere British law did not apply. Perhaps for John it had been a blessing in disguise that Scorpia had found out about the planned transport. Scorpia had meant to hijack the plane and rescue John, but internal treason had put an end to those plans and the MI6 plane and all its occupants had been blown to smithereens.

The truth weighed heavy on Alex's mind. His lungs felt constricted and nausea threatened to overcome him. He didn't know what to think. _His father … a Scorpia hit man._ He could no longer really deny that Scorpia had been right all along and that MI6 had lied to him and kept on lying over and over..

Yet as difficult as the truth was, Alex couldn't stop reading. He picked up a folder entitled 'Malta'. There was another picture of his father on the first page, but it was the second photo in the file that caught his attention. It had obviously been taken from some distance and the subject was a little blurred, but there was no doubt that the man in the picture was Yassen Gregorovich!

In neat hand writing, someone had scripted 'Codename: Hunter' under his dad's photo and 'Codename: Cossack' under Yassen's. With bated breath, Alex turned the page to continue reading, when suddenly the door flew open.

Alex jumped to his feet, but was immediately outnumbered as three security guards entered the room. Within seconds, they had surrounded Alex and were holding him at gunpoint. "Hands where I can see them, boy," one of the guards growled.

Alex reluctantly let go of the folder and held out his hands, fully expecting to be grabbed and handcuffed. Instead, the guards simply kept their eyes on him while the one who had addressed him spoke into his radio. "We have Rider."

A few uncomfortably silent minutes later, Alan Blunt entered the room. He didn't look like a man who had just been pulled out of bed in the middle of the night, although most likely that's exactly what he was. He looked at Alex disapprovingly, not seeming the least bit concerned by the mess of files on the floor.

"Find what you wanted?" he asked scathingly.

"You should have told me the truth," Alex responded, making sure that his tone matched Blunt's.

Blunt simply shrugged. "For what? For you to live with the knowledge that your father was a traitor? A bastard? A murderer? Don't be silly. Have you taken anything?"

Alex shook his head, but Blunt still turned to one of the guards. _"Search him."_

There was no point in resisting as the security guard first frisked him for weapons and then started methodically going through his pockets. It didn't take long for the man to find the photos and hand them to Blunt.

"Your mother," Blunt said, and for a split second an expression akin to pity crossed his face. It disappeared instantly when he saw the second photo.

"Where did you get this?" Blunt demanded.

Alex shrugged and gestured down at the piles of folders. "It was in these papers here."

He managed to maintain eye contact with Blunt, but could feel his heart rate accelerating as he lied.

"Alex. Where did you get this photo?" Blunt asked again, waving the picture of the Australian.

"Who is he?" Alex snapped back in return, determined not to feel intimidated by Blunt's cold gaze.

"I've told you before: forget about him."

Alex could feel his jaw clenching and it took all his will power to calm himself. "I found it," he replied at last. "In one of these other files here. I opened some random ones and this fell out."

Blunt stared at him, clearly not believing a word. "You're in a lot of trouble," was his simple assessment. "Now be a good boy and come along nicely."

He turned to leave, clearly expecting Alex to go with him, but Alex felt rooted to the spot. He stared down at Ian's file, wanting desperately to pick it up.

"Leave it," one of the security guys warned. "Don't even think about making a fuss here. You won't win."

Looking around at the three guards and their drawn weapons, Alex tended to agree. Seething with frustration, he followed Blunt. All three guards stayed at his heels, probably in case he changed his mind about complying. Not a word was said as they walked past rows of offices to the lift.

Alex was expecting to be taken down to the foyer, but instead Blunt used a key to activate a button for a higher floor. There were no offices on the second to last floor of the Royal & General building. The rooms here were as overnight stays for agents … although the locks on the doors indicated that they were also used as overnight stays for _less patriotic_ guests.

It was in one of these rooms that Alex was left. There was a clean, comfortable bed, a fridge with basic ready-to-eat foodstuff and a television with all digital networks … but it was still a prison. He sat down on the bed angrily.

Now that he was alone and the adrenaline was leaving his system, the burden of the information he had uncovered was finally sinking in. MI6 had tortured his father! And they would have gone a lot further if the laws of the country had allowed it. The knowledge felt heavy, painful.

For the first time in many years, Alex felt a rush of grief for his dead dad. He closed his eyes and wished the pain away …

--

Chapter End Notes:

**To be continued …**

This chapter was written LONG before this week's headline news regarding MI6 complicity in torture, but it does seem rather fitting timing. And it doesn't surprise me.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Chapter Notes:

Thanks for your ongoing support – things are starting to heat up for Alex now – ENJOY! Sorry for the slight posting delay. Started a new job and turned out to be a bit more stressful than expected! Have given you a longer chapter to make up for it xx Anne.

-

**Chapter 4**

Although Alex hadn't planned on sleeping, he'd somehow found himself curled up on top of the bed – he awoke suddenly to the sound of loud knocking. Panic surged through him like an electric shock, and he jumped to his feet, fists balled tightly.

For a moment he could see only metal walls closing in on him and he felt almost overwhelmed by claustrophobic terror. Then the memories of the previous night came flooding back. He was in an MI6 cell.

_Shit._

Drawing a shaky breath, Alex called in his visitor.

It was Tulip Jones. She stepped into his room and closed the door, though not before Alex caught a glimpse of several men just outside.

"Oh, Alex …" she muttered, looking him up and down and shaking her head disapprovingly. "You've crossed a line. How much of the files did you manage to read?"

"Enough."

She frowned. "This is sensitive information, Alex. It goes beyond the Official Secrets Act. That's why we couldn't tell you the truth."

"Is it really? Or is it that you were scared I might want to avenge my dad if I knew what you did to him?"

She shrugged. "You're old enough to make your own decisions, Alex. You proved that to us already. Unfortunately, last night you made a very _bad_ decision by coming here and betraying our confidence. The information you learnt from those files must be treated carefully. In the wrong hands …"

Alex felt a tug of guilt at her judgmental tone. "As if I'd want anyone to know that my father was a hit man for one of the world's worst terrorist organisations," he said evasively, not wanting to think about the _questioning_ his father had endured. "Is there anything else I need to know?" Alex added darkly. "Was my mum also a Scorpia agent? Do I have another secret godfather waiting in the side lines for his turn to try to kill me?"

Again, he wished he'd had the time to read Ian's file – it was the one he'd originally been more interested in, but now he would be leaving with nothing more than a bitter taste in his mouth and a truth he'd never wanted to know.

Mrs Jones was watching him carefully, her eyes piercing him for the truth. She also seemed to be reading his mind, for she suddenly asked, "What about your uncle's file?"

He hesitated, then admitted, "I never had the time to read it. Did he work for Scorpia?"

"No," Mrs Jones said. Her lips remained slightly parted as she continued to observe him.

"So he was spying on Scorpia. For you."

She did not respond, but her silence told Alex everything he needed to know. He wasn't quite sure why he felt such relief at the confirmation that his uncle was one of the good guys. Perhaps it was simply that he couldn't have handled another double cross.

"Ian knew he was going to die," Alex started. "He sent me a letter."

It was Alex's turn to watch carefully as Mrs Jones reacted to his words. She noticeably stiffened. "We'll need a copy of that, Alex. For now, I hope I don't need to tell you how … _damaging_ some of the information in your father's file could be. Not to mention how Scorpia would react if they found out the truth, both about your father's second capture and about Ian. So now, you have to tell me, Alex, where did you get this photo?"

She pulled out the photo of the Australian, Ian's hand visible on his shoulder. Alex said nothing for a moment, then he lied. "It was in the letter my uncle wrote."

"Did he say anything about this man?"

Alex shook his head. "Just to watch out for him."

If there was anything strange about Alex's statement, Mrs Jones did not seem to notice. Instead she seemed to relax a little. "You already know that he is a very dangerous man, high up in Scorpia. But he is also the man who recruited your uncle after John Rider's death."

_So that's why the man was obsessed with Ian Rider … _

"What about Yassen Gregorovich? The letter told me to watch out for him too," Alex lied.

Mrs Jones looked bemused for a moment, but then dismissed the question. "It's not important any more. You already know he was an assassin for Scorpia."

Alex sighed and rubbed his eyes. He felt like this conversation was going in circles, but the Australian had made it very clear that there was some kind of link between Ian and Yassen.

Watching Mrs Jone's carefully, Alex asked: "Did my uncle know Yassen Gregorovich?"

"Yes, Alex. They both worked for Scorpia after your father's death," she answered, too quickly.

"As simple as that?"

"Yes."

"But Yassen killed him? He admitted it to me."

Impossibly, Mrs Jones seemed to become even tenser. There was a long silence, before she nodded. "Yes, Gregorovich executed Ian Rider. A damn shame, really. Ian was a fine man."

"Why did Yassen kill him?" Alex immediately wanted to know.

He knew he was pushing his luck and was not surprised when Mrs Jones ignored his question. Then all of a sudden her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Her entire demeanour seemed suspicious.

"What do you mean, _why?_" she asked sharply. "Because Scorpia found out about his betrayal, of course. Why else?"

It was clear from her tone that the conversation was finished.

Despite the confusion and shock of his discoveries, Alex was glad to have uncovered a little more information. Not only did he have the confirmation that Ian Rider was an undercover MI6 agent, as he had already worked out, but he also knew Tulip Jones was either lying or misinformed. Scorpia never did find out that Ian was working for MI6. The Australian, high up in Scorpia as he was, had not known this simple fact. Which meant that Yassen Gregorovich had in fact had a different motive for killing Ian Rider … or possibly even that he hadn't killed Ian Rider at all, despite not denying the accusation on the helipad?

To Mrs Jones, Alex simply said: "Right. Of course."

Mrs Jones' suspicious expression didn't drop, but she turned toward the door. "Let's go, Alex. Alan needs to have a word with you. Please behave. We can still get you out of this mess."

She led the way and Alex followed. He'd expected to find the standard MI6 security guards in the corridor, but instead, two very familiar men were waiting to escort him. Both men were in full black combat uniforms, and Alex immediately noticed the silver wings on the front of their jackets.

"Wolf! Snake!" Alex exclaimed, and he did not have to feign his relief at seeing these two men. Of course, he had been told that they had both survived the Scorpia capture unharmed, but seeing as half of what he was told seemed to be lies, it was good to have a visual confirmation. He was not surprised when neither man responded. In fact, Wolf was looking for all in the world like he would like to shoot Alex now and get it over with.

Before he could say another word, however, Mrs Jones turned around and urged him to hurry on. Together, the four of them made their way down the corridor and into the lift.

A few minutes later, Alex was sitting in front of Alan Blunt, keenly aware of the SAS men standing guard at the back of the office. Blunt was talking in an accusatory tone, reeling off a long and boring monologue about Alex's behaviour.

"… I am very disappointed in you! Snooping around sensitive files like that – it's absolutely unheard of," Blunt finally finished.

"Well, first of all I'm sick of you lot constantly lying to me. And then, maybe you should give your files a bit more protection because they weren't exactly hard to get at," Alex answered back.

Outwardly, Blunt looked as impassive as ever, but Alex knew him well enough to see the angry twitch of his jaw. "That's because only authorised personnel are able to enter this building," Blunt explained, his words coming out slowly, as though he didn't trust himself not to blow up. "We _trusted_ you, Alex. Some of the information you read regarding your fath—"

"You _tortured_ him," Alex interrupted. "He worked for Scorpia and you fucking tortured him and that's all there is to it."

Blunt did not look sorry. "Yes well, sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures. You understand this information can never come out. The press would have a field day! Public image is very important these days. And if Scorpia ever found out … Well, you know their attitude to revenge all too well …"

"You wanted to transport my father out of the country," Alex continued bleakly. "And my mum. Were you going to torture her too? And what about Ian? Did he know that you tortured his brother? I can't believe he continued working for you after that …"

"Your uncle understood that Scorpia needed to be brought down _whatever the cost_."

Alex felt a rise of anger at Blunt's nonchalant tone. "Right," Alex announced, pushing back his chair. "So Ian was a bastard too. Well, I'm going home. I've had enough. And I don't want to ever hear from any of you again."

Blunt looked distinctly uncomfortable. "We can't let you leave, Alex."

Alex almost felt like laughing. And here he had thought life couldn't possibly get any worse.

"Why the hell not? What do you think I'm going to do? Run to the press and tell them all about your hands on treatment of terror suspects? Or maybe I could run back to Scorpia and beg for their forgiveness? At least _they_ actually told me the truth! At least they never lied to me, even though I didn't know it until now! And then maybe I'll tell them about Ian and how Ian fucked them over, and I'm sure they'll be thrilled to employ me! Employ me as shark food or something! For fuck's sake, I just want to go home!"

"Calm down, Alex," Blunt ordered. He nodded to the two SAS men who until now had stayed by the door.

Alex jumped to his feet as they approached. For the first time, he felt a faint flutter of fear.

"Look," Alex tried again, more evenly, addressing Snake and Wolf directly now. "All I wanted was to know a little more about the man I grew up with. I know it was wrong to break in, but I needed to know. And now, I just want to go home."

He waited until Snake's expression softened, just a little, and then he attacked.

Aware of Snake's strength, Alex went straight for a knock out blow – he slammed his hand down onto the reflex point of Snake's shoulder. The larger man crumpled instantly, and Alex grabbed the second gun from his holster and turned to face the remaining occupants of the room. He kept the gun trained on Wolf, knowing that the newly qualified SAS man presented the greatest threat.

"Don't come any nearer," he warned, and was horrified to hear his voice breaking a little. "I just want to go home. I never wanted any of this."

"Alex, put down that gun at once," Mrs Jones ordered sternly. She sounded like she was talking down to a naughty child. He ignored her.

Alex kept his gaze on Wolf. If looks could kill, he'd have dropped dead already. Further back, Snake was starting to stir. A rise of panic threatened to overwhelm Alex.

_"What do you want with me?"_

Blunt did not look particularly fazed as he said: "We just need you to stay here under surveillance until we're certain that you're not a … threat …"

_"A threat?"_ Alex exclaimed, his voice finally reaching a hysterical peak.

"To our national security," Blunt finished.

The thought of it was so ridiculous Alex almost laughed. _They_ had forced him into this life. They had messed him around, used and abused him. And now they were essentially going to arrest him for knowing too much. Surely if Alex was going to talk to the press, he'd have done so many months ago?

_"Just leave me the fuck alone!" _

Alex waved the gun around the room, knowing he was getting himself into more and more trouble with every passing second. But he wasn't staying here. Backing out through the doorway, Alex suddenly slammed the door as hard as he could. Then he shoved the gun into his belt and started running.

He knew he had to get out of the building as quickly as possible. Blunt would not cause a scene in front of the general public - not on MI6's own doorstep. He had just made his thoughts about negative publicity very clear. Alex headed for the stairwell, bounding as fast as he could and thanking his lucky stars that his knee was fully healed. He heard a commotion behind him and knew Wolf couldn't be far behind.

"Don't hurt him!" he heard Tulip Jones call out.

_"Bring him back. Do whatever you have to,"_ Alan Blunt's instruction overruled hers.

And then Alex heard no more, for he had finally reached the stairwell door. He burst through it and immediately almost tripped over a janitor mop and bucket. The janitor was nowhere in sight – hopefully he'd just gone on his break.

Alex grabbed the mop and thrust the handle through the metal door to the stairwell. It wouldn't take Wolf long to break through this pathetic barricade, but hopefully that would give Alex the time to make it to the outside world. He continued his escape, grabbing hold of the railings and leaping down the stairs as fast as he could. He just made it to the ground floor when he heard the mop handle shatter several floors higher up.

Gasping for air, Alex burst through the door into the main hall of the Royal and General. He wasn't sure what he was expecting; security guards, locked doors … but it looked just as it always did: like a perfectly normal bank.

Several people stared at Alex as he ran through the lobby, but no one tried to stop him. With the last of his strength, he threw himself out onto the busy street and straight through the closing pneumatic doors of a bendy bus.

He immediately ducked down low and hoped that Wolf had not seen him jump onto the bus. When he was sure that the SAS man was not right behind him, he made his way to the backbench and settled down. He would go wherever it took him …

--

Chapter End Notes:

**To be continued …**


	5. Chapter 5

**You can all thank ****Izzy-I.R.T**** for this chapter – it wasn't due until tomorrow, but she needed some reading material … **

**I also need to apologise for that cruelly brief appearance of Wolf & Snake. They will be back very soon … and perhaps more importantly, their characters are slowly taking form for Big Things to come.**

**Thanks for your reviews guys, keep 'em coming! This chapter won't be to everyone's taste, but it's the way the muses took me. Alex still had a lot to learn, but the one game he's good at is survival.**

-

**Chapter 5**

Alex kept his head low as he slipped into the phone booth just outside Paddington Station. The bus had stopped nearby, and the crowded location shielded him from the CCTV cameras that had the potential to track his movements.

He put some coins into the phone and dialled his home number.

"Jack Starbright speaking," Jack's familiar voice answered after three rings.

"Jack?" Alex asked shakily. "Is anyone there? Can you talk?"

"Alex, where are you? I'm sorry, Alex, I should never have tried to read your letter. I knew it wa—"

"It doesn't matter any more," Alex interrupted. "I have to be quick. There are some letters on my bed. I need them. But I can't come home."

"Where are you?"

"I can't say. They might be listening in. Remember where we went for my birthday? I'll meet you there in one hour. I need those letters!"

He hung up and leant against the glass side of the phone booth. He wasn't sure what he was hoping the letters would contain, but he felt certain that the mystery was not yet solved. While he was fairly sure that he now understood the roles played by John and Ian Rider, he still had no idea where Yassen fit into the story.

He glanced up and noticed that three separate CCTV cameras were now filming the phone booth. Cursing silently, Alex jogged into the tube station. He felt acutely aware of the handgun that was still stuffed into his waistband. If he was caught with a gun in Paddington Station, then MI6 would be the least of his problems. Using his body to shield his actions from the people milling around the station, he managed to slip the gun into a bin.

Feeling considerably lighter, Alex used the remaining coins in his pocket to buy a travel card, just in case MI6 were able to trace his Oyster card. Then he jumped onto a southbound Circle Line train. He knew that meeting Jack in the park was an extremely risky move, but he trusted her not to betray him.

He got off the train at St. James Park Station and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up before stepping into the street. One huge advantage of meeting in the park was that there were fewer cameras in this area, and Alex found himself feeling a little more relaxed as he joined the early morning dog walkers.

He was half an hour early, but he was grateful for the extra time and settled on a bench to wait for Jack. It wasn't as cold as it could have been for a February day, but by the time Jack arrived Alex wished he'd asked her to bring him a warmer jacket.

Jack walked furtively, constantly looking around as though expecting someone to be following her. Alex couldn't help but smile at her obvious behaviour – she looked like she was in some kind of American gangster film.

She walked past his bench without stopping. Alex jumped up to walk by her side. "Have you got the letters? Were you followed?"

"I don't think I was followed. What's going on, Alex? Please tell me you don't have another terrorist organisation trying to kill you?"

Alex sighed. "No, but MI6 caught me snooping around in their files and they're not happy about it."

Jack looked anxious, but she pulled the wad of envelopes from her handbag and handed them to Alex. He took them gratefully and slipped everything into the inside pocket of his denim jacket. He saw Jack look around the park and did the same – no suspicious characters were apparent and he relaxed again.

"Jack, you knew my uncle very well, didn't you?"

When she nodded, he continued, watching carefully for her response. "Did you know that my uncle knew Yassen Gregorovich?"

Jack seemed to freeze for a split second, then turned away from Alex.

"That's the guy who tried to kill Sabina's dad, right? Why would Ian know him?"

Alex saw her knuckles turn white with tension where she gripped her handbag. She was lying.

"That's what I'm trying to find out." Alex sighed. "You had heard the name before I ever told you about him, hadn't you?"

She took a deep sigh, then faced Alex. "Why are you suddenly asking me this?"

"It's not sudden. I mean … it never crossed my mind that you might have heard of the man before, or I'd have asked you already ten months ago. I can't believe you didn't volunteer the information." Alex trailed off. He watched Jack carefully, noting the tension that still seemed to run through her.

"They made me sign the Official Secrets Act, Alex."

Alex ignored her weak excuse and tried again. "Yassen Gregorovich was a friend of my father's, wasn't he?"

Jack shrugged. "I didn't know your father, Alex."

She turned and started walking again, heading towards the small bridge that crossed the narrow stream of the duck pond.

Frustration surged through Alex at her reticence. "I never knew him either. And if Yassen Gregorovich is the key to understanding why my entire fucking family had to die, then I want to know everything there is to know about him."

"Language, Alex. Why would you think Yassen had anything to do with your father's death?"

Alex smiled inwardly. Jack had just as good as admitted that she knew more than she was letting on. "Actually, I don't think he had anything to do with my father's death. Or my mum's … But I'm pretty sure he killed Ian."

Jack stopped again and her expression was laced with disbelief. "Alex … I don't know how to tell you this. But I don't think Yassen would have hurt Ian."

"But he did! He fucking shot him!"

"Language, Alex."

Alex snorted angrily. _"Right."_

"Alex, why can't you just accept that some old dogs are best left to sleep in peace?"

"Because, I need to know the truth. I'm sick of all these surprises everyone keeps springing on me! I don't know who the bad guys are any more."

Jack sighed heavily. "It's very complicated, Alex. I don't have the answers you want."

"No one ever has any fucking answers for me!" Alex snapped, his frustration finally getting the better of him. "You could have told me about my godfather years ago, but you never did. You could have warned me about all this shit and you never fucking bothered to tell me anything!"

Alex didn't care that Jack had started crying. He didn't care about anything but the rage inside. "All I want to know is who the fuck Yassen Gregorovich really is- or was. That's all."

Wiping her eyes with her sleeve, Jack nodded. "Okay, Alex. But promise me you won't go looking for him."

"I can't promise that."

Jack smiled sadly. "He was your father's friend. They were as close as brothers. I understand that Yassen spent some time with your family before … before the incident. But I only met him many years after that. He … He and Ian … They were more than friends, Alex."

Alex felt nauseous. "They worked together, right?"

Jack shook her head. "That's not what I meant. Yassen used to come round to see Ian when you were smaller. They were very close. Both were devastated by the death of your father and I think that drove them together."

Alex's ears were buzzing. This was not what he'd been expecting. He had expected some complicated story about double agents and undercover identities. "Why would Scorpia care about any of this?" he murmured, his voice sounding unfamiliar and weak.

"Alex, I don't want you to judge your uncle for his lifestyle choices. He cared about you very much."

Alex shook his head to clear the buzzing noise. He felt sick to the core, but the pieces of the mystery were finally falling into place.

"So they were lovers," he whispered. "Ian and Yassen …"

"Please Alex, don't let this change the way you think of your uncle," Jack had started pleading again. But Alex dismissed her. Things were finally starting to make sense. Alex wondered whether Ian's involvement with Yassen had been part of Ian's deep cover or a sincere emotion. His instincts told him that Yassen, at least, must have believed their relationship to be genuine, for why else would the assassin have covered up his uncle's true allegiances in the face of Scorpia?

Alex ran a hand through his hair and looked into Jack's tearful eyes.

"I would never judge Ian," he promised. "I just wanted to know why Yassen murdered him. Scorpia never ordered the execution, you see. But I get it now. It was personal."

Jack opened her mouth to respond, but suddenly her eyes darted over Alex's shoulder to the other side of the water. _"I think they've found us,"_ she hissed. Alex turned round instinctively. He immediately recognised the man standing by the lake bank and feeding the ducks – it was the MI6 agent who had been following him the previous day. _How could he have been so stupid as to forget about that!_

_"Shit!"_ Alex cursed. "You have to hold him up! Don't worry about me; I'll be fine!"

Alex turned on his heels and started running. Mere seconds later, he heard a loud splash behind him and wished he could afford the time to turn around and check who had ended up in the water - hopefully not Jack. Either way, he had no doubt he would hear all about it … _one day. _

Luckily for Alex, the morning rush hour had started while he was in the park, and he threw himself into the budding throng of people, using them to shield him from sight on the busy street.

It was like being stuck in rapid waters. Alex let the purposeful crowd walk him straight onto a Double-Decker bus, where he thrust his travelcard at the driver. Out of breath but filled with relief, he climbed up the stair to the top deck and let himself collapse onto the last empty seat. The woman beside him gave him a distasteful look before turning back to her newspaper.

She got off several stops later, and Alex slid over to the window seat, keeping his head low. A new woman sat down on the aisle seat, making Alex startle. Adrenaline rushed through him, unbidden, but the woman immediately started texting from her mobile phone. She was not interested in him. He shook his head against the invading paranoia. Keeping an eye on the top of the stairs, he pulled out the wad of letters Jack had brought from home and started flicking through them.

Though none of the names were familiar, one nevertheless drew Alex's attention: Kazak. He searched his memories, whispering the name under his breath, knowing he had heard this word before but not quite able to place it. And then it hit him hard: _Cossack_ - that was Yassen's codename, wasn't it?

Ripping the seal, Alex pulled out the letter and read.

_**Kazak,**_

My friend, my companion, my lover. I do not expect this letter to ever find you, but I feel the compulsion to write it nonetheless. What I have done to you is unforgivable, but you must believe that my emotions were real. It is Scorpia that I sought to take down, and I always knew that its destruction would take you with it. This is a burden I accepted long ago, for the sake of my fallen brother and of my growing nephew who deserves a world better than mine.

If you ever read these words, then rest assured of my undying love, regardless of the circumstances.

Yours,

Ian Rider

With trembling fingers, Alex folded the letter back into its envelope. He felt numb, confused; but if there had been any doubt left, it had now been erased. His uncle had risked, and lost, everything to expose the organisation that he perceived as instrumental to his brother's death. He must have let himself be recruited by Scorpia as a double agent, but then had kept MI6 informed every step of the way - the ultimate triple agent and a true patriot.

Casting a sideways glance at the woman next to him, Alex was relieved to see that she was entirely focussed on her mobile phone. He folded the letter back into its envelope. He would read the others, addressed to unknown people, later. For now, he lent back in his seat and watched the streets of London come to life outside.

--

Chapter End Notes:

**To be continued …**


	6. Chapter 6

**Really glad that everyone is enjoying the plot – I'm having great fun with this story and it's got places to go, things to see … I know a lot of you would like more Wolf & Snake. This chapter is for you, but I regret to say their roles are not YET as important as I promise they WILL be! **

**Meanwhile, if you would like to know the truth behind Ian's death, please check out this companion piece I wrote: NO MISTAKE – on my profile or, as always, on the ARchive! **

-

**Chapter 6**

The bus wound its way through central London, picking up speed as the rush hour subsided. The woman with the mobile phone was long gone and no one had taken her place. Alex knew London well enough that he had a fair idea of their general location – they had circled almost all of zone one and were now heading back into The City from the east.

… but he had no idea what he was going to do next.

He considered going to Tom's house, but surely that would be too obvious? His next thought was to go straight to the press. MI6 wouldn't be able to harm him if his story was already public … It seemed unlikely, however, that anyone would believe a scruffy fifteen year old in need of a shave. More likely they'd call the police and then he'd be right back where he started.

In the end the decision was taken out of his hands.

The bus was just pulling away from its stop when a black helicopter appeared, dangerously low in the street ahead. For one terrifying second, Alex thought he could see a red flash of the Scorpia symbol on its undercarriage, but then as the chopper came nearer he realised it was a red crown … attached to a circle of laurels within which an eagle flew away from crossed swords over an anchor. It was the Ministry of Defence seal.

How on earth had they found him? Even if he'd been caught on camera, how had they known that he would be right here, right now? Alex felt frozen to the spot – he was a sitting duck.

Without any time to waste, he fell into a low crouch and made his way across the deck of the moving bus. Once on the bottom deck, he approached the driver.

"Please, I need to get off."

The driver gave him a blank look from behind the safety glass. "You'll have to wait till the next stop."

"No, you don't understand. I've just heard – my … father's been in an accident. I need to get a taxi to the hospital. _Now!_."

The driver made a point of sighing deeply before slamming on the brakes. "Just this once," he muttered, pushing the button that released the pneumatic doors.

Alex leapt out before they were fully open. He imagined the soldiers in the helicopter, watching him, and sprinted across the street into Cannon Street Station. He cleared the ticket barrier and made his way down to the platforms. Several trains were standing with open doors, passengers milling in and out. Alex felt a strong twinge of hopelessness _– where the hell was he going to go? _

And then he realised that the crowd of passengers was thinning out. None of the trains were moving. Worse, those passengers still on the platforms were looking up at the concourse bridge and staring … pointing … whispering …

Slowly, Alex turned around. Half a dozen soldiers had the room covered; their weapons were all pointing down at him.

Alex felt his heart lurch up into his throat. Perhaps it was for the best, he considered; after all he had nowhere to go, no money, no friends … _nothing. _

The figures coming down the stairs toward him were very familiar.

"Cub, I think you've run far enough. We don't want to hurt you."

While Snake's words were intended to sound reassuring, Alex couldn't ignore the determination in the man's face. They were not going to let a boy best them _again_. Instinctively, Alex backed away. Then he spied the entrance to the underground further down the platform. Not even thinking about what the hell he was trying to achieve and driven only by despair, Alex made a run for it.

He heard the SAS men swear loudly and shout orders to the other soldiers, but he didn't slow down. Alex sprinted onto the busy tube platform but then kept on running, heading toward the exit at the far end. He didn't know Cannon Street Station very well, but if only he could make it back out onto the street, then at least he wouldn't be trapped. And he almost made it - but as he turned a corner, he saw a wall of soldiers guarding the station entrance.

He turned around again, panting heavily and feeling almost light headed from his sprint. _There was nowhere to go!_ Snake and Wolf barred his escape back through the tunnel.

"Enough," Wolf snapped. "Give it up, right now."

Alex balled his fists and took a step forward.

"I mean it, Rider! Show me your hands and turn to face the wall!"

When Alex didn't move, Wolf took a step closer. He held what looked like a black pistol aimed right at Alex. Alex clenched his fists and wondered if he could disarm Wolf - again. _No, probably not … _He glanced at Snake, who stood a little further back.

Alex knew that in a true combat situation, he had no chance against the two SAS men, but maybe he could use their familiarity to his advantage?

"I'm really sorry about earlier," Alex offered, still clenching his fists. "I panicked. I threw the gun away. I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want to go ho—"

"Shut up, Rider," Wolf interrupted with a scowl. "Show me your fucking hands!"

"Come on, Cub. Be easier to just come quietly," Snake added in a softer voice.

"Easier for whom?" Alex wanted to know. "You're not going to shoot me, are you?"

"I don't have to," Wolf sneered as he pulled the trigger. Alex saw a spark of electric blue light spit from the barrel, and then his body seemed to collapse beneath him.

Alex convulsed and twitched on the dirty floor, gasping for air. He was unable to resist as his body was rolled over and his hands pulled behind his back into metal cuffs. He could feel a sharp knee digging into his spine and tried to writhe away but was overcome by an agonising muscle cramp that seemed to contort his entire being.

Finally the spasms eased, leaving Alex feeling completely disoriented. He could feel grit all over his face and his right cheek was wet with blood where the skin had been scraped open on the tarmac.

"Should have listened to Snake, shouldn't you?" Wolf sneered, dragging Alex to his feet. Alex wobbled a little, but regained his balance. He could hear Snake talking into his radio, letting the soldiers know that Alex Rider had finally been captured.

Shaking off the last effects of the Taser, Alex considered his position. On the one hand, he'd run a good race and there was really no shame in losing against these guys. He had nowhere to go … On the other, he was already in so much trouble that he felt he had nothing to lose. He knew he wouldn't be able to avoid MI6 forever, but he did not want to face Alan Blunt or his cronies. He did not want to be locked up.

"I need to pee," he suddenly blurted out, looking at Snake. "Look, I won't try anything. Please don't make me go in my pants … I'm in a bad enough situation already."

Wolf tightened his grip on Alex's arm. Alex cursed inwardly; if there was one person on this earth that knew not to underestimate him, it was Wolf. Turning back to Snake, Alex tried to look contrite and inoffensive. "You can't blame me for running. I should never have attacked you, Snake. You know I'm not a bad person, don't you? We've been through enough together."

He could see Snake waging an inner battle. The man looked like for all in the world he wanted to believe and trust Alex, but he'd already learnt a painful lesson for his weakness that morning.

Alex sighed and shrugged, looking down at the ground. "I'll just have to go, then. I hope you're not taking me too far in that helicopter."

Wolf's hold finally relaxed a little. "Okay, Cub," Wolf agreed, addressing Alex by his training codename for the first time. "I'll let you do your business. The public loo is right over there. But one wrong move and I swear I'll fry you so hard you won't remember your own name."

Alex nodded meekly. He stood quietly while Wolf pushed a key into the first cuff.

As soon as he heard the click, he struck out backwards, twisting his entire body to follow through with the momentum of the blow. Wolf went reeling into the round wall of the tube tunnel, the Taser gun clattering to the floor.

Alex didn't have time to even think about grabbing the gun before Snake and Wolf were both onto him. If there was one thing that he had learned as part of Scorpia training, it was how to use his smaller body to his advantage.

Ducking out from between the two SAS men, Alex clenched the dangling cuff tightly in his fist and delivered a hard blow to Wolf's head, agilely darting out of the way before Snake could take over from his groggy colleague. But Alex didn't try to gain any distance; instead, he stepped right back into the fight, twirling and twisting almost like a dancer to avoid increasingly sloppy blows. Then, with a sudden leap to one side, Alex grabbed a smoke grenade from Wolf's belt. He'd had enough training to know exactly what he was doing – he pulled the ring and dropped the grenade.

"Don't let him get past you!" he heard Snake shout out as dense white smoke started billowing from the grenade at incredible speed, engulfing everything in its path.

It wouldn't delay them for long, but it was enough for Alex to escape. He headed back the way he had come, away from the soldiers guarding the exit. Since all trains had been stopped, Alex did not hesitate to jump onto the tube track. He jogged into the dark tunnel, his path shown only by faint neon green emergency strips.

Ignoring the metal cuff dangling from his right wrist, Alex ran like he had never run before. Until now, the SAS men had been trying to capture him in the name of queen and country. Now, there was a good chance that they had taken his attack personally. He remembered Alan Blunt's words and knew that for the first time, his wellbeing could be in real danger from his own side.

He knew the London underground tunnels benefited from regular escape doors, and thankfully it wasn't long before he found one. The metal door grated as he yanked it open, but then he found himself in a dimly lit corridor. Green arrows showed him the way out and it was with a sigh of relief that Alex burst out of the emergency exit.

He was back on familiar streets now. He ran until the side of his knee started throbbing and then he ran some more until it hurt to breathe. From previous experience, he knew he was reaching the limit of his physical endurance and finally broke into a walk. The two SAS men and the other soldiers could not be far behind, so he had to keep moving. More disturbingly, how had they managed to find him so easily in the first place? Alex ducked into an alleyway. He felt less exposed in the shadows cast by the two tall buildings lining either side of the passage.

Alex stopped for a moment. He could hear booted footsteps in the distance, but other than that, there was only silence. He was now faced with an awful decision – stay where he was and rely on stealth to protect him ... or continue running and risk loosing the battle against exhaustion.

He opted for a compromise. Moving as quietly as he could, he limped farther away from the main street and turned around to wait for his pursuers to pass. Only moments after, he saw the outline of Wolf sprinting by, followed by five soldiers in full combat uniform.

Knowing his luck would have to run out sooner or later, Alex pressed on. He needed a much more secure hiding place. He emerged from the alleyway into a small residential road. He hardly had time to find his bearing, however, before a sharp blow to the back of his head sent him pitching forwards onto the concrete. Twisting round, Alex was just about able to ward off a second blow.

He rolled to his feet and faced his opponent: Snake, looking imposing in his black combats. His face was dark with fury.

"I am sorry, Cub, but you give me no choice."

He didn't sound sorry at all, but Alex didn't have time to ask what Snake meant, before his former colleague had lashed out and kicked Alex's knee in an unforgiving swipe.

Alex screamed with agony and went down like a rock. The pain was unbearable and seemed to rob the air from Alex's lungs. He gasped to catch his breath, aware of Snake talking into his radio, calling for Wolf, calling for Blunt and his cronies to come to pick up Alex.

Alex curled up and clutched his knee with both hands, shaking his head to clear his mind from the all-consuming pain. Slowly, it ebbed away and became part of his world …

"You're a real bastard, you know?" he managed to gasp.

Snake's face was drawn as he said, "So are you, Alex. You put up a good fight, but you took it too far."

"You don't know what you've done," Alex groaned, still clutching his knee and wishing the flashes of pain would go away and leave him alone. "They're going to lock me up and throw away the key!"

Snake shook his head. "Don't be silly, Cub. They just want to help you. You're having a nervous break down. You're confused. MI6 are the good guys, even if they do put you under too much pressure sometimes."

Alex laughed through his pain, and it sounded a little insane even to his own ears. "You believe that, do you? This isn't like the army you know. There's no honour round here. These guys, Blunt, Jones … they lie and kill an—"

He broke off, as waves of pain made him feel weak, then finished. "And you've just done their dirty work for them."

Each word hurt, and Alex squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them, Snake was crouching by his side. He looked sympathetic but unapologetic. "It's my job to do this country's dirty work. I couldn't let you get away again, and empty threats just don't work with you."

"You don't understand anything, _you fucking Snake_," Alex spat with as much vehemence as he could muster, particularly emphasising the SAS man's codename.

Snake looked like he was about to respond, when he suddenly stood up straight and cocked his rifle, pointing at something or someone behind Alex.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

Alex craned his neck, but could see only a tall figure moving gracefully toward them. His heart seemed to lurch when the new arrival lifted a handgun and without preamble, pulled the trigger.

Snake cried out with surprise as he was thrown back onto the dirty concrete by the force of the bullet hitting his Kevlar vest. Alex watched as Yassen Gregorovich strode into full view and lifted the gun again, this time aiming straight at Snake's head.

"No, don't!" Alex cried out. _"Please, don't kill him!"_

Yassen paused, and for a second he and Snake seemed to be staring straight into each other's eyes. Then Yassen aimed a vicious kick at the fallen man's head and Snake's body went slack.

Alex dragged himself to the scene and was relieved to see the gentle rise and fall of Snake's chest. He looked up at Yassen's cold face and felt a strange rush of familiarity and safety.

"Scorpia - they're tracking me!" Alex exclaimed, but Yassen either did not hear or did not care.

"Not just Scorpia are tracking you," he said tersely. "We haven't much time." And then Yassen lifted Alex into his arms, picking him up as easily as if he were a feather.

Alex couldn't help tensing a little as the Russian's arms closed around him, but he did not resist as Yassen carried him back into the shadows of the small alleyway and out into the street to an unmarked black Luton van.

--

Chapter End Notes:

**To be continued ...**


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Chapter Notes:

A bit less exciting than the previous chapter ... consider it the calm before the Storm! And if you have not yet read No Mistake, you'll hopefully want to check it out after this chapter!

-

**Chapter 7**

"What do you mean, _not only Scorpia_ is tracking me?" Alex demanded after Yassen had gently placed him on a bench in the back of the Luton, which was absolutely full of electronic equipment and screens. "And I can't stay near you! Right now, Scorpia already know we're together."

Yassen smiled indulgently at Alex's garbled words. He knocked on the partition to the driver's cab, and Alex felt the van lurch as they pulled off. Then Yassen gestured vaguely around the van. "On this screen you can see the signal the authorities have been tracking all day. It's not a very precise trace, but good enough for them _– and for me –_ to find you. Right now, we are heading far underground, little Alex. I know of a maintenance slipway in the Blackwall Tunnel that has come in useful many times – you will be out of their range down there."

_That bastard, Blunt!_ Alex recalled a conversation in the hospital a few weeks ago. Blunt had said something about ensuring that Alex could not be kidnapped again. At the time, Alex had ignored Blunt's words as empty promises; now he scowled at the revelation that MI6 had seen fit to tag him without his consent.

"Were you looking for me?" he asked Yassen.

"I hoped to find you, yes. I have located several MI6 signals in London, but when both police and military started chasing the same signal, I knew it had to be you." Yassen smiled. "You must tell me why MI6 is so intent on finding you. Why was a British soldier willing to severely injure you to bring you in?"

Alex bit his lower lip until it felt raw, then blurted out: "I really fucked up. MI6 think I'm … "

He trailed off and fidgeted with the loose cuff still dangling from his right wrist. He wasn't quite sure what MI6 thought of him at the moment - mad, churlish, unpredictable …_out of control_.

"You always get yourself into these strange situations, Alex," Yassen commented. "I had my own reasons for wanting to find you, but now it seems that getting you away from MI6 is another good one."

He had taken out his gun and was looking down the barrel very studiously. "So you have both Scorpia and MI6 interested in you for various reasons – your uncle would be proud." Yassen's words came out measured, careful, but Alex could hear the accusation and the hint of hurt in his expression. He also noticed how Yassen's grip on the gun had tightened.

"Not like I had much choice. On either account. I can't please anyone, it seems. There's just no way out of this mess. Why did _you_ want to find me?"

"There is always a way," Yassen said, ignoring Alex's query. "How is your leg?"

Alex stretched it as slowly as possible, wincing at the pressure on the joint. "Damn. I think it's badly damaged. I only just … only just came out of hospital a few weeks ago. I can't believe that bastard broke it again!"

"Yet you wouldn't see him die?"

"No," Alex acknowledged. "He was just doing his job."

"Like your father?"

Alex looked up to meet Yassen's cold gaze. He found himself drawn to the scar that ran in a thin white line along the side of his neck. "Yeah. Like my father."

The straight line of the scar broke as the assassin turned to look down and catch Alex's eyes again. "Your father was very good at what he did."

"Killing people?"

Yassen almost looked pained for a moment, but then his features settled back into that familiar neutral expression. Alex was relieved to note that he'd at least had laid aside the gun.

"He was good at killing people, it's true. But I meant that he was good at lying to MI6. MI6 had doubts, I think, until the very moment they brought him in. Of course, Scorpia had doubts, too. A man's true intentions are often hard to understand, as Julia Rothman found out to her detriment. She believed that John had betrayed us."

But Alex wasn't interested in discussing John Rider _again_. "I know. I read his file. What about Ian?"

Yassen shook his head, turning away from Alex. "Clearly, he was even better at lying."

Alex rubbed his knee thoughtfully. "Yeah, he had you all fooled for years, didn't he? Just like my father fooled MI6. I guess that's fair payback."

Yassen did not answer. Instead he got up and stretched. He was tall enough that he had to stoop to avoid touching the top of the van.

"You have grown a lot, little Alex. I hope you can forgive me for what I did."

"You murdered him when you found out he was reporting back to MI6 and feeding disinformation to Scorpia, didn't you?"

His question was answered by Yassen's lack of response.

"You murdered your _lover_." Alex felt the pang of loss coming back and clenched his fists to fight the emotion. "Can you forgive yourself?" he wanted to know.

"Never," said Yassen, finally turning around to look at Alex. His face was drawn with remembered pain and his hands shook a little. "But Ian understood the stakes. And I promised him, before he died, that I would always protect you. Always."

Alex felt his breath hitch a little. "Well … thanks, I guess. Though I'm not sure that sending me to Scorpia was the best plan, really. Why does Scorpia want you so badly, anyway? They set up this whole crazy kidnap plot just to blackmail me into digging up Ian's past and go looking for you."

After a long silence, Yassen answered. "I never told them what Ian did. Herod Sayle was the one who realised Ian was … not what he seemed. But Sayle thought only of himself. I killed him before he told Scorpia the truth. The board members became suspicious about the circumstances of Ian's death. After all, they had not ordered it, and Scorpia is not the type of organisation that tolerates rogue agents. When Damian Cray hired me, he was told that I was _expendable. _After I survived that attack, I knew that it was time to disappear."

Alex studied the man's expression and decided he was telling the truth. "Scorpia – the Australian guy – told me you were alive."

Yassen picked up his gun again and let his fingers dance up and down the barrel. "Scorpia are never far behind, Alex. You should know this by now."

"They wanted me to find you," Alex said.

Yassen cocked his head to one side. "In that case, I want you tell them that I have no interest in coming back to them. I work for myself now, and Scorpia should be thankful that I don't take revenge for its betrayal."

Yassen's tone turned icy as he spoke. Once again Alex felt a rush of confusion. He was terrified of MI6 or Scorpia catching up with him, but he still did not understand why Yassen had wanted to find him.

He asked again, but Yassen gave the same cryptic shrug. "As I said, I promised Ian that I would not let you come to any harm." He turned to what looked like a small keyboard and started typing. "For now, I will scramble the signal of the MI6 tracker. It will throw them off by a few kilometres when we come back out of the tunnel. Enough to make it harder for them to find you; especially in London."

"Can you get rid of the signal completely?" Alex asked hopefully.

"For now, this will have to suffice. In my safe house I have better equipment. We will need to physically locate the tracker to fully immobilise it."

Alex wanted to ask where the safe house was, but the van driver suddenly knocked on the partition. Yassen slid open a panel. _"Da?"_

The driver spoke in very fast Russian. Yassen answered just as quickly, then paused to look at Alex before saying a few more words and closing the panel.

"What?" Alex immediately demanded.

Yassen shook his head and checked the security of his handgun. "We have company - Scorpia."

Alex's heart leaped up into his throat. "I thought you said no one would find us down here?"

Yassen shrugged. He holstered the gun and drew out a hunting knife instead. "Perhaps they got lucky by tracking your last location before we entered the tunnel system."

He looked from the knife to Alex with an expression that made Alex shiver inside.

"It can't be removed, you know," Alex said defensively, instinctively holding a hand to his stomach. "Maybe it would be best if we split up …"

He didn't like the way Yassen still seemed to be looking through him. Then Yassen smiled coldly. "You stay with me, little Alex. It is time we faced Scorpia together."

His words did not make Alex feel any better, but once again it seemed that he had no choice in the matter. They waited in silence for what felt like an eternity but couldn't have been more then ten minutes. Alex wasn't sure what they were expecting – an assault team like the one that had captured him in the Brecon Beacons, maybe … or—

His thoughts – and all other senses – were cut short as the van was suddenly thrown into the air by a horrific explosion.

Alex hit the floor, or maybe it was one of the sides, and a searing pain shot through his head. He could hear the driver shouting in Russian and then there were gunshots. The world around him was rocking and he felt seasick. He opened his eyes carefully, wincing at the pain in his head. The van was lying on its side - the back doors had been blown off.

Yassen was gone.

--

Chapter End Notes:

**To be continued ... **

If you want to know exactly why Ian had to die, why not read about it from Yassen's point of view? == No Mistake


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Chapter Notes:**

**Don't worry, Yassen hasn't gone far … Action & Adventure are on their way! Thanks for all the lovely reviews – I'm really glad you're all enjoying it so much …**

-

**Chapter 8**

The air was thick with smoke, but Alex couldn't hear anything. He shook his head, trying to make his ears work, but it just intensified the pain in his head. He knew he needed to get out or he would choke, and started crawling toward the back of the van, the dangling cuff clinking against Yassen's ruined electrical equipment.

The agony from his knee almost made him stop, but then the adrenaline rush of survival took over and all his aches and pains seemed to evaporate. He managed to reach the back of the van and fell out onto the tarmac of the tunnel. At least the air was clearer here and he greedily gulped in the precious oxygen.

He heard muffled shouting and turned where he lay, helpless to do anything but watch as several black-clad Scorpia operatives surrounded him. He counted five rifles pointing down at him, which was ridiculous because he was injured and winded and _deaf_.

One of the men was shouting down at him, but the words made no sense. Alex closed his eyes and turned to the side, wishing the man would just shut up. His head was surely going to split in half and it was making him nauseous.

Hands grabbed at him and pulled him upright. Alex opened his eyes and his senses were assaulted by light and noise. He doubled over and vomited, then nearly collapsed with pain when something popped in his ears.

"–all over my shirt, you fucking brat!" the man was shouting, and Alex was so relieved that he could hear again, he momentarily forgot about the pain in his head.

And then the hands were back, but this time Alex was more aware of the world. He shook them off weakly and managed to stand on his own two feet. , One of the guards grabbed the metal cuff that was still dangling from his right wrist and clicked it back onto his left in front of they guided him away from the smoking van.

Alex looked around to where the Luton lay on its side. It looked like the driver was either unconscious or dead. Beyond the van, Alex had no trouble recognising Yassen's elegant form, standing tall but surrounded by armed Scorpia men. His hands were raised, clearly empty.

Standing just outside the circle of Scorpia guards was the Australian. Just the sight of him made Alex want to throw up again.

"Get a move on," one of the Scorpia men ordered, though Alex hadn't even realised that he'd stopped. Ludicrously, he wondered where the man covered in his vomit had gone, but then he was forced to confront reality once more.

He took a teetering step toward the Australian, but then gave up as his knee wobbled uncontrollably, and let himself sink to the floor. He'd hardly touched the cold concrete before the Scorpia men dragged him back to his feet again. He managed to keep his balance as the Australian approached.

"You found Yassen Gregorovich, you clever puppy," the Australian praised, his blue eyes sparkling in the semi-darkness of the tunnel as he looked down at Alex. "What about your uncle? Do you have the information I requested?"

Alex set his jaw. He knew he shouldn't play this man's game, but he _wanted_ the Australian to know that Ian had been one of the good guys. It seemed important for the sake of Ian's memory …

"Yeah," he answered, shaking his head against the continuing ache, he forced himself to get up and face this man. "Ian Rider was playing you all along. All of you." He looked briefly at Yassen, who still stood surrounded by Scorpia men, before glaring at the Australian once more. "He was never loyal to Scorpia. He didn't care about any of you. He forced himself … to do _horrible_ things," he looked toward Yassen again, "for his country. Lie back and think of England and all that."

The Australian managed to hold onto his pseudo-jovial countenance, but Alex could see the familiar anger building in his expression. Rather than feel intimidated by the man's rising anger, Alex started to feel vindictive pleasure at finally saying his bit.

"Every piece of information he ever gave you about MI6 was false. He really stuck it to you for corrupting his brother," Alex sneered, still not caring about the Australian's increasingly dark expression. "So there you go. I've done what you wanted. I've solved your little mystery and I've found your runaway assassin. Clever me, can I go home now?"

The slap, when it hit the side of his face, knocked him to the ground. It felt like his head had been knocked clean off his shoulders. Alex had been slapped before, many times, but he knew his face would be badly bruised from the impact of the Australian's fury. The man had really _meant_ it. He managed to awkwardly hold himself up on his arms and refused to give in to the darkness that tried to claim him. After a few moments, he sat upright again and stared up at his enemy.

The Australian's anger had channelled into a cruel smile. He motioned for Alex to be pulled up to his feet and then stepped close. "Tell me, Alex, are you proud of your uncle?"

Alex supposed he was proud of Ian, but he wasn't about to enter into a conversation about it. He concentrated on keeping his weight on his good leg. He didn't want to collapse at the Australian's feet _again_.

"Are you proud of his _relationship_ with Gregorovich here?"

Alex pursed his lips. "That," he said purposefully, "was nothing but an act."

The Australian laughed and turned to Yassen, whose face seemed drawn in terrible anger. "No wonder you killed the treacherous bastard," he sneered. "Shame you couldn't be more open with us about the whole saga. Now you leave me with doubts as to your loyalty."

Yassen glared, seemingly unaware of the rifles pointed at him. "_You_ have doubts? You made it clear that my services were no longer required by Scorpia. And yet I have never made a move against Scorpia or its people."

The Australian's smile finally disappeared. "You cannot just walk away from Scorpia. You belong to us. What the hell were you thinking, Gregorovich?"

Yassen seemed to look through the Australian at Alex. He looked like he was about to respond, but then he shrugged and let his hands fall to his sides. "I was thinking that if Scorpia was happy to see me die, then it was time to think about my retirement."

The Australian snorted, but he remained deadly serious as he said, "You should have told us about Ian Rider's betrayal. Your silence is not forgivable."

Yassen continued to lock eyes with Alex, and Alex felt like the Russian was trying to communicate something … but he wasn't able to decipher the look. And anyway, Alex reasoned, he could hardly stand straight, let alone fight. Alex broke off the eye contact and looked down at his feet, noticing for the first time that part of his trainer had melted off in the explosion, revealing a dirty white sock beneath. He fiddled with a button at the bottom of his jacket.

"What about me?" he blurted out.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the Australian turn towards him and approach. "You belong to us, Rider. You will do as you're told, or you'll die."

Alex 's head snapped up. Before he could even think about what he was doing, he had spat in the Australian's face. "Then you'll have to kill me now, because I belong to no one. Give me half a chance and I'll finish my uncle's work."

Alex expected another slap, but the Australian just wiped the spittle from his face. He looked calmer than ever as he took a step forward to stand right in front of Alex.

"Tell me, Gregorovich," the Australian asked, his piercing blue eyes never leaving Alex's face. "Does he remind you more of his father or of his uncle?"

In a lightning fast move, the Australian grabbed the hair at the back of Alex's head, forcing up his chin. Alex took a step back, but the movement sent a stab of pain up his leg and he stilled with a gasp. He closed his eyes as the Australian ran a finger down his aching face before pressing it to his lips. "Shhhhh. When he's silent, I think he resembles Hunter."

Alex hissed a curse and tried to yank his head to the side. He winced as the grip in his hair tightened, but the Australian just laughed at him. "But the defiance, that is Ian's, don't you think? I think I should cut out your tongue, Rider. You'd be a more pleasant boy if your mouth didn't run away with you all the time," he added, emphasising his words with a rough shake.

"Yeah, you'd like me to shut up, wouldn't you?" Alex growled. "Everyone does."

The Australian's lips twitched. He drew a slow line across Alex's throat with his finger and Alex could feel his pulse jump against the touch and he had to resist the urge to push the Australian with his handcuffed hands. The Australian's smile widened and Alex saw a glint of white teeth. "Of course, killing you now would be a shame. You're shaping up very nicely. Your father's features and your uncle's fiery attitude – it's a good combination. I suppose," he turned to Yassen conspiratorially as he spoke, "I could keep the boy as a souvenir; you know, for old times' sake."

Alex saw Yassen's face twitch with disgust. He again tried to yank his head free, but succeeded only in tightening the Australian's grip on his hair even more.

And then just like that, the Australian abruptly let go. The momentum of his release almost sent Alex tumbling forward. His heart was beating so wildly that it felt like it was going to break through his chest and still all his strength focussed on keeping himself upright. Never before had he felt so helpless, so incapacitated by his own body. He glanced around at the Scorpia men who still surrounded the scene and sighed. He was nothing but a pawn in a game he didn't understand. If ever there was a good time to give up, it had now arrived.

"You'll learn your place," the Australian said, and it sounded more like a promise than a threat. Alex shivered. His head was throbbing again, and he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and make the Australian and the Scorpia men and the tunnel go away.

"Put them in the van," the Australian suddenly ordered out loud.

Herded by his armed captors, Alex limped as best he could toward the Scorpia van. He watched Yassen climb confidently into the back, not appearing at all concerned by his situation. Alex hesitated for a moment, before gritting his teeth against the pain and scrambling into the van.

He was made to sit next to Yassen on the floor behind the front seats. He hooked his cuffed wrists around his knees, shuddering with pain when he brushed the broken one. Despite himself, he leant to the side, using Yassen's lean form for support as the van lurched forwards.

The heat of Yassen's body beside him gave him a surge of familiarity; he fought to swallow as an inexplicable lump formed in his throat. Even without a broken knee, this would not have been a good situation; they were completely and utterly at the mercy of Scorpia.

-

Chapter End Notes:

**To be continued …**


	9. Chapter 9

Sorry for the delay guys! I got sidetracked by other stuff this weekend. But here it is, the final chapter of You Can Run but you Can't Hide. Thanks for all your wonderful reviews – I've really enjoyed writing this part of the Blood & Fire arc and your ongoing support has confirmed my decision that you haven't seen the last of this arc!

-

**Chapter 9**

"What happened to your knee?" the Australian wanted to know as the van sped off into the unknown.

Alex scowled. "You broke it; don't you remember?"

The Australian smirked a little as though relishing the memory, then shrugged. "It should have healed by now."

"It was," Alex snapped and left it at that. His head was hurting more than ever and his nerves felt completely frayed. Soon, he knew he would lose control. "Where are we going?"

The Australian smirked again. "To our base of operations. We need to discuss your next mission for us, Rider. And I also need to decide what to do about _you_," he added, addressing Yassen directly.

Yassen's cool eyes met the Australian's without fear, and Alex was impressed by the Russian's ability to keep his calm. He didn't bother arguing with the Australian's words, however; it wasn't worth it.

"You put me in a difficult position, Gregorovich," The Australian continued. "While I understand your motivation for executing Ian Rider, you should have been upfront about it. Then we could have avoided all the unpleasantry surrounding the Cray mission."

Yassen snorted with amusement. "Of course. It is that simple."

Alex remembered the day he'd believed Yassen dead, murdered. He wondered if the Australian knew as much as he did about the events surrounding Yassen's supposed termination. Really, it was not that simple at all.

For a while they travelled in silence. Alex wondered if they had left London yet. Probably not; even in the middle of the night London traffic was a force to be reckoned with. He could feel his aching head getting heavier and heavier until he was sinking against Yassen. He stifled a yawn and tried to sit up straight, but the movement jarred his knee and he gave up. Yassen didn't seem to care anyway.

After what felt like hours, the van suddenly stopped. Alex heard the driver door slamming and looked up expectantly. Yassen, too, seemed suddenly very alert and Alex could feel him tensing.

The Australian must have sensed Yassen's movement, for he shook his head pointedly. "Don't even think about it, Gregorovich."

Alex felt Yassen settle again. He wondered how well these two men knew each other; how often they had worked together … with John … and Ian. He sighed and rolled his shoulders to try to get some life back into them. The pain in his head was subsiding a little, bringing with it the relief of clear thought. One thing was certain: he had to get out of here, and Yassen was his only hope.

"I won't work for you," he suddenly said.

"So you've said." The Australian sounded bored, though Alex noticed that his eyes had not left Yassen.

"I mean it," Alex pressed. "You can kill me with your toxins or whatever, but I won't be part of Scorpia. You've destroyed my life and if I get half a chance I'll destroy you."

The Australian's gaze flickered to Alex now. He looked amused. "You've already been very helpful to Scorpia, Rider. Without you, it might have taken us a lot longer to find out the truth about Ian. Your attitude is nothing a few months in Malagosto won't _adjust_."

"You're going to brain wash me?"

"Don't be so crude," the Australian laughed, finally turning his full attention to Alex. "We're going to beat you into submission, teach you a few lessons, then blackmail you into doing exactly as you're told."

Alex shivered. Beside him, he felt Yassen tense again.

"I don't care. I won't do it. I'll run away when you send me on a mission."

"And we'll find you and bring you back and start again," the Australian promised. His eyes once again sparkled with that disconcerting hunger Alex had first seen at the Scorpia base on the island on the Irish Sea. He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a mobile phone. He threw it to Alex who looked down at it blankly.

"Press the green button."

Alex did as he was told. Immediately the screen sprang to life. A white square with a blinking cursor appeared.

"Type 'Rider'," the Australian suggested. Again Alex did as he was told. Only one option appeared: 'Rider, Alex'. He pressed the green button again and an aerial view of an area immediately recognisable as the northern side of the M25 appeared on the screen.

In the centre of the picture was a static green dot, and Alex realised it had to be him, identified by the tracking device implanted in his belly. Several other dots surrounded the green dot and a blinking blue dot was approaching rapidly.

Under the picture was a white box in which several names flashed in red – Alex recognised only 'Gregorovich, Yassen'. He wondered if any of the names belonged to the Australian … or whether it mattered.

"Nice and precise, don't you think? You can run, Rider, but you can't hide," the Australian mocked. Alex felt mesmerised by the screen. This was his life, at the touch of a button. He wondered whether the device he was holding was also able to release the nanotoxins into his body.

Reading his mind, the Australian laughed. "It's not quite that simple, Rider. To kill you, there's a passcode."

The blue dot was almost on top of them now and Alex heard the driver's door slam again. He could hardly believe the temporal and special precision of the mobile device; he wondered if MI6 had any idea that Scorpia had that level of satellite access over the United Kingdom. It seemed unlikely that the MI6 had anything as good as this.

And then he saw it ... but it couldn't be that simple, _could it? _

On the touchpad of the mobile device was a button simply labelled "Call out". Without even thinking about what he was doing, Alex pressed the button and dialled 999 before the Australian or any of the guards had even realised he was moving.

He could hardly believe it when a voice came over the speaker, loud and clear. "Which emergency service do you require?"

For a second, it was as though everyone in the van had forgotten how to breathe.

And then Alex managed to scream, "Police! It's Scorpia! They've go—" before the butt of a rifle slammed into the side of his face and cut off his words. He threw the little device across the van and just heard the operator ask, "What is your name, sir?" when another guard grabbed it and cut off the signal.

Alex could feel his lip swelling where he'd been hit, and the graze from his fight with Wolf earlier on started bleeding again. At this rate, his whole face was going to be a swollen mass of pain. He managed to bring up his arms to protect his face from another blow; it smashed into his arm painfully. Alex squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the next onslaught … but it never came.

In fact, a deadly silence seemed to have overcome the van.

Carefully, Alex brought down his arms and looked up. The Australian was holding the device and looking down at it as though he couldn't quite believe that it had betrayed him. More than that, however, the Australian was looking utterly shocked. Around him the guards were slumped lifelessly in their seats.

Alex caught the Australian's gaze; for a split second he saw Yassen's reflection in those blue eyes, and then the Australian slumped forwards and collapsed.

Beside him, Yassen was getting up. The assassin took the time to stretch his limbs, clearly clearing away the cramps of the journey. In his hand he held a tiny tube, no longer than half a pencil. It had a sort of trigger on one end.

"Zolpidem," Yassen explained. "They will be sleeping for a very long time, maybe forever."

Alex let Yassen pull him to his feet, wincing in pain with almost every move. Incredibly, he felt a yawn working its way through his jaw. "You haven't dosed me, have you?" he asked in alarm, but Yassen merely shook his head and supported Alex's weight as they climbed out of the van.

"I need to have a word with the driver. He is an old _acquaintance_ of mine. He knows what's good for him," Yassen explained, before leaving Alex to stand groggily by the back doors of the van. Yassen returned moments later and slammed the doors. "I have told him to take them back to the Scorpia command base."

"No!" Alex exclaimed. _"You can't just let them get away!" _

But it was too late; the van was pulling off and soon even its tail lights had disappeared into the darkness. Alex felt a flash of anger bubbling inside him.

"Little Alex. These men are just one small part of the organisation. Killing them now would only serve to further enrage Scorpia."

"I didn't mean you should _kill_ them," Alex mumbled. In the distance he could hear sirens. A wave of relief crashed through him and he took a painful step toward the direction of the motorway. Between the malfunctioning MI6 tracker and the phone call for help, the authorities couldn't be too far away.

"You did a very brave thing, back there," Yassen praised. "It was an excellent distraction."

Alex took another painful step. The sirens were very near now; it sounded like there were hundreds of them. Clearly his call for help had got through to the right people. Sometimes he wondered just how much surveillance the communications systems were under. Maybe it was best not to think about it … like it was best not to think about MI6 _interrogating_ their suspects …

Yassen was still alongside him. "You don't have to go back, Alex," he said. "I can protect you from MI6."

"And from Scorpia?"

Yassen did not reply. Alex took another step – at this rate he would never reach the motorway. He felt an inexplicable lump in his throat. "Am I ever going to get away from them?" he suddenly blurted out.

"Scorpia will always know where you are, little Alex. I expect they'll come looking for me."

Alex felt an inexplicable lump forming in his throat. "They'll kill you," he said.

"Is that what you want?"

The lump in Alex's throat grew bigger. He was finding it hard to swallow. "No," he admitted. He winced as Yassen grabbed his arm and forced him to stop.

"Scorpia's next move is not something I can predict. But now they know the truth about Ian …" Yassen trailed off, his eyes gazing over Alex's shoulder at some undefined point in the distance.

Alex felt a tug of guilt at the pain flashing across Yassen's face. He thought of the letter in his jacket pocket, the letter addressed to Kazak that maybe had the potential to change the course of the future …

But instead of pulling it out, Alex yanked his arm from Yassen's grip and started walking again.

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me. So far every Rider that's trusted you has ended up dead."

Yassen recoiled as though slapped. He did not move to follow Alex, although whether that was through hurt or because the first police cars had pulled into the slipway, Alex would never know.

As he limped away from the Russian assassin, Alex couldn't stop thinking about the unpredictability of his life, and more specifically of his seemingly never ending involvement with Scorpia.

Alex's skin bore more than its fair share of scars to demonstrate Scorpia's immense reach of violence. Often that violence seemed overly emotional and out of proportion.

Maybe, Alex reasoned, Scorpia simply _liked_ killing people and blowing things up … maybe that's what drew its members in?

Like his father … who had been _good at his job_.

And Nile, who liked dominating other individuals.

And Julia Rothman, who wanted to kill all the school children.

_But not his uncle. _

Ian Rider had been a good man. Alex smiled to himself, then. If there was one important lesson to learn from the past thirty-six hours, it was surely that Ian Rider had given his life to fight these bastards.

He turned around and squinted into the darkness, but Yassen had gone.

Taking a deep breath, Alex limped toward the police cars, holding up his hands to show that they were empty. He was not surprised when several men advanced in a crouch to meet him. They swiftly unlocked his handcuffs, only to force his hands behind his back and snapped the metal restraints back into place with a finalistic click, before half-pushing, half-carrying him to the waiting police car.

It was time to go home and face the music …

--

Chapter End Notes:

**== THE END ==**

This part of the arc is finished, but Alex's story is far from over. Will the Australian come looking him? Will MI6 be able to protect him? Does MI6 even have Alex's best interests at heart? And what about Yassen? Is there even a place for him in this world? … One also wonders whether Snake finds it easy to sleep at night …

Thanks for all the support throughout Never Say Never & You Can Run but You Can't Hide (+ No Mistake) – I really enjoy writing these fics and there are many loose ends that still need to be tied. So keep the loving coming and have no fear. I shall not leave you hanging in the dark –

**Alex Rider will return in **_**The Abyss of Revenge**_** …**


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